


Fuel for Thought

by cruelest_month



Category: Nathan Barley (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:06:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly bad day, Dan regroups by spending time with Jones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuel for Thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [th_esaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/th_esaurus/gifts).



The day had been a particularly bad one and once he got back to the house, he was so relieved to find that Claire wasn’t in. Jones’ noisy creations faded to a dull roar as he smiled in a vacant, kindly way at him and Dan nodded on his way to the kitchen.

He came back with a sandwich, a cup of coffee and Claire’s borrowed laptop under his arm. She’d left it at the kitchen table and after saving whatever files she had open, he opened a blank document and stared at the blinking cursor.

The first few sentences were agony and the words were not the ones he wanted to choose. They all seemed to belong to other people and he felt so troubled by the realization that it was just as well that Jones began tinkering quietly with a beat-up xylophone because at least that way he didn’t feel jealous. It must have been nice though, to really, truly not care about anything and to lose one’s self in a task while still managing to find someone to pay you for it.

Dan felt like he was constantly being drawn out and away from all of the things that he might have considered feeling strongly about, but maybe he was just not as energetic as Jones. He didn’t have the same sort of internal rechargeable batteries to keep going for five days straight. Dan got up every morning feeling like he was already on half power and came back when the day was through completely drained.

At some point he’d stopped typing and his hands had rested on the keys for a long, long time. Long enough that his coffee had gone lukewarm, and Jones had moved from his turntable work station to sit down beside him on the couch by the time he could focus his mind on anything other than his own misfortunes. Another way he often wasted or passed the time.

Jones didn’t say anything, just leaned against his shoulder, not really looking at anything. Certainly not looking at the computer screen. He never did look at the screen unless Dan asked him to and that rarely happened. In fact, it never happened. Maybe it should have happened, but it didn’t.

_I need the money_ , was what Dan considered saying, but he didn’t say anything. _I hate everyone and I need the money_.

“Are you going to eat this?” Jones asked after awhile, reaching a long arm out to poke at the sandwich roll that contained all of the meat and cheese making up Dan’s meal.

He snorted and picked up the plate. “Yes. Make your own.”

Jones considered this before smiling gamely and trying again. “Can't I have half?”

“Fine. Half.” Dan broke the bread and gave Jones the smaller piece but all the other man did was grin and start eating it.

“Thanks.”

He grunted some sort of reply, shoving the rest of his portion into his mouth and moving on to the coffee.

“It’s gone cold,” Jones said, taking the cup from him before he could drink. “I’ll make a new pot, yeah?”

Dan sank back against the couch cushions, deflating a little and closing his eyes. He only woke up when Jones lightly nudged his shoulder and set the mug down in front of him.

He didn’t reach for the drink though. He reached for Jones’ hands, sniffing at the faint bitter lingering scent of coffee beans before letting the DJ move his fingers to the back of his neck, massaging lightly. Withdrawing one hand, he lightly closed the lid to the laptop after Dan nodded and then moved into Dan’s lap.

Dan exhaled sharply, moving his arms out of the way and putting them around Jones’ narrow waist. He rested his chin on the other man’s shoulder staring down into the dark liquid of his coffee cup, forcing back a weary groan as Jones worked out some of his countless knots of tension.

“Claire won’t be back until tomorrow. Or the next day.”

“Good.”

“If you want…”

“Yeah.”

This was also part of what they did. They did what Dan wanted. Possibly it was what Jones wanted since he seemed eager and never complained, but that was less of the point and Dan wasn't sure why Jones wanted to do anything with him in the first place. He wasn’t really much of a catch either in bed or out. He couldn’t deny that some of this… whatever this was could only have been a result of proximity –it was Jones or Claire and Claire was his sister— and because out of all the people he knew, Jones was one of the few he could legitimately stand.

They kissed and Dan broke it off so he could drink his coffee. Jones nipped and bit at his neck. He didn’t ignore it, but he didn’t do much outside of tilt his head to allow the other man better access. Once he was done and felt that some small part of his dwindling energy supply had been restored, he brought Jones’ lips back up to his and then shifted them so that Jones was lying on his back on the couch cushion in front of him with his legs on either side of his waist.

They both shed the other’s clothes and there wasn’t much talking involved because Dan didn’t really like talking. He liked doing other things and he liked Jones finding other ways of keeping his teeth, tongue and lips occupied.

Whether it meant anything or not, they usually fucked facing one another. Dan would grab at a fistful of Jones’ hair after slicking himself up and ploughing his way inside. Or sometimes Jones would have sucked him off and he was already prepared that way. Dan wasn’t graceful and he wasn’t sure how skilled he was, but Jones moaned like a pro and he was too earnest to lie about something like sex.

What Dan enjoyed was the part afterwards. After he was done thrusting and both of them had somehow achieved an orgasm and the stickiness seemed to fuse their bodies together and he felt spent in the most satisfying way. He would stay there even after pulling out, eager to avoid deadlines or talking or anything else that he’d be expected to do at some point later on by someone else. This typically excluded Jones who never seemed to expect much without giving more or giving anyway. Even if he wasn’t helpful and even if it wasn’t enough, it was something. And Dan was vaguely appreciative of it. Somewhat.

Jones would touch his face then, looking pleased and as cheerful as ever. The first few times they’d done this, Dan had to stop himself from flinching or shying away from it. Not because he didn’t want Jones to touch him. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to feel those warm slender fingers on the bridge of his nose or sliding down his cheek. Maybe he was afraid that it was true and all of this was just a result of sheer proximity on his part and pity on Jones. And Dan wasn’t sure he could handle the thought of Jones –even Jones— pitying him. But he didn't really think it was pity since pity required that the other man be more two-faced and Jones was a fairly straightforward individual. Very easy to figure out without hidden deceitful depths. And Jones considered Dan to be a friend and Jones liked him.

There was something strange about the touching though. Something awkwardly reassuring. Dan didn’t need any reassurance and if he had, he wasn’t sure he would have gone to Jones for it, but eventually he accepted it anyway because where the fuck else was he going to get any? 

That night he tolerated it with more patience than usual before pulling his jeans back up and fastening them. He sat down on the other end of the couch. Jones got dressed before joining him. They shared a cigarette and Jones ended up finishing what was left of the coffee, making a face since it was cold again.

Dan snorted. “Addict.”

Jones smiled, stretching out lazily and drifting in Dan’s direction, slumping up against him and sighing quietly. “You were practically licking the smell off my hands.”

“I never licked.”

His eyes closed briefly. Maybe Jones hadn’t had as much coffee as Dan had thought. “You have to work?”

“Yes. But you can stay here.” He moved forward and Jones curled up on most of the couch. Even then he wasn’t taking up a lot of room and Dan sat down in front of him on the middle cushion and brought the lid up on the laptop. From time to time, he would absently brush fingers through Jones’ hair as the DJ curled up around him and by the time another hour or so had passed he was done with the article for Jonatton Yeah?

He didn’t hate himself any less for writing it, but he didn’t have any trouble going to sleep once he sent it in.


End file.
